The Quiet Kind
by How I Rescued the Potato Salad
Summary: Ginny reflects during silent and insecure moments before and after Bill's wedding. Read and Review


**The Quiet Kind**

_She'd still had her Quidditch jersey on to celebrate Gryffindor's victory, but she'd charmed it clean earlier. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck and he was kissing her with such an intensity that she'd blushed the first time Colin showed her the picture._

She smiles sadly down at the photograph of the two of them. She understands why he ended it, she understands how he must have felt. But still, she is not going to let go and move on.

The memories are bittersweet; staring into his green eyes that would stare back at her and make her feel like the most wonderful, beautiful creature in the world.

She feels pretty now of course. Who wouldn't? Sitting on her windowsill with her legs dangling out the opened window, with the vines that climb up the east side of the house tickling her bare feet; And her bridesmaid's buttermilk-yellow chiffon robes that flutter delicately against her knees make her happy that Fleur finally decided against the heavy gold colour. The afternoon sun is in her hair and a picture of a kiss in her hand. All she needs to do is to hum a lovely, sad ballad of long-forgotten origins, and she'd make a perfectly lovely random, fairytale cliché. Except for the 'beauty' factor; button nose, boring brown eyes, freckles, she's definitely not the 'fairest in the land'.

Except she's not the 'fairest in the land'.

Not even in the house.

Not when there are at least two other partial Veelas in it at a time.

She bites her lip. Ever since Harry arrived three days ago, Gabrielle Delacour, Fleur's giggling but _pretty-pretty_, eleven year old sister has been glued to his side and she, Ginny, Fleur's _belle-soeur_, has avoided him. She hasn't thought up what to say yet.

Today is Bill and Fleur's wedding. She and Gabrielle are the bridesmaids. She is somewhat dreading walking down that aisle, feeling like a drab sparrow, being sandwiched by two graceful swans looking resplendent in their yellow robes and white gown.

Her mum is calling her down. She needs to get her hair done. She sighs before climbing off the sill. She hides the picture away, and skips out of her room feeling stupid. She's got a number of jobs to do tonight. Bridesmaiding is only one of them.

Her hair is braided up into an intricate bundle that perches on top of her head and her face has been painted (as she and the Twins, who are running through their 'plans' for the night with her, like to put it).

They're all taking the Portkey to Godric's Hollow. She's managed to land without messing up her hair, makeup or robes. But Gabrielle, with a rather dramatic gasp, falls against Harry. And Harry - being Harry - catches her. The Weasley brothers (except a glowering Ron) snigger as Gabrielle leans a little closer. She, Ginny, turns away to snatch up her bouquet from her Mum.

She's walking down the aisle beside Gabrielle. She can already hear the ooh's and aah's as Fleur glides along behind them.

The ceremony starts, but she doesn't pay attention, she's gazing determinedly at her bouquet of yellow and white roses. She is not going to look through the crowd for _him_. But she sees out of the corner of her eye, him smiling at her. He's looking at her with those bottle green eyes and smiling. She looks up.

He's smiling at her mother.

Fred is waiting for her on the aisle, his arm ready and Gabrielle is hissing '_Allez! Rapidement!'_ in her ear. She rushes over to Fred.

Damn her peripheral vision.

The wedding party has moved back to the Burrow for the banquet, which is going quite smoothly in her and the Twins' opinions. Percy who has been hit twice with Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, has knocked over one of the pastry tables and is currently falling into one of the fruit bowls. Aunt Muriel has had her punch spiked with a little concoction that Ginny named _Tonks_. When Aunt Muriel's faded gray hair turns bubble-gum pink and her sharp nose rapidly becomes a pig's snout, George quickly informs Ginny that _Tonks_ will be on the shelves of WWW in a week's time.

Charlie managed to call in an obscure band called _The Floo_. They keep playing slow, romantic songs, which gives little Gabrielle all the more reason to keep Harry to herself. She can hear her now, murmuring '_Ah-hree' _rolling her 'r's into a beautifully rich sound.

She hates dancing. Unless she is dancing with Fred or George. But tonight, she has had to dance with her father, her brothers, her cousins, Fleur's cousins, Bill's friends, Fleur's friends, Order members - she's had enough.

That's why she's sitting on her windowsill again, in exactly the same place as she was six hours ago. She's taken off her pinching shoes and some strands of her hair have fallen out of place.

She can hear the music from up here. And the laughter, the numerous toasts. She's tired of smiling, dancing, laughing, teasing, the wedding. And she's tired of not being able to speak to Harry.

She's contemplating sneaking to the broom shed and going for a fly, just to relax a little. Nighttime flying is the best. Nighttime flying in wonderful summer robes would be even better, she reckons. Mum would kill her if she flew in her dress.

But Mum doesn't have to see. She needs to boost her self-esteem anyway. After all, she's been spending two weeks with many of Fleur's relatives - all of them at least partially Veela.

Nighttime flying really does feel great, she thinks, closing her eyes and enjoying the cool wind rustling her robes.

'Hello Ginny."

A very quiet, but familiar voice startles her and she yelps, braking so quickly that she almost throws her self off the broom. _Almost_.

He's on his Firebolt. And he, like her, has not changed out of his formal robes yet.

'Harry, _what_ are you _doing _up here?' she demands rather snappishly.

'Avoiding Gabrielle,' he answers as if it were the most obvious thing. 'And then you came up here.' He turns to look at her, and she looks back at him, she is beautiful and wonderful again.

'Ah.' Is all she says.

'Why are you barefoot?' he asks, after a moment's silence. His question is so out-of-the-blue, and random. She looks up startled.

'Because I like it,' she answers simply. 'You should try too.'

'Okay.' And he leans over and starts unlacing his shiny new dress shoes. They fall to the ground below, followed by a pair of black socks. Then he grins at her and she grins back. She feels radiant now, far more so than Fleur and Gabrielle combined. Radiant in a quiet way though.

And for the next two hours they float up there, together, in the night sky; neither of them making a sound.


End file.
